


Fear Is Not Uniform

by FaithSky



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mention of past suicidal thoughts, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 00:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaithSky/pseuds/FaithSky
Summary: It was a simple request. Something as easy as pulling her sleeves through her old uniform shirt, tucking it into those khakis that Waverly insisted her "butt looked great in" and dusting off her Stetson.So how is it that she finds herself unable to take a deep breath? Why is she on the floor curled up against her own knees?Nicole could do this for Waverly. Of course she could. Only she couldn't. She wasn't that person anymore.Or, a retelling of a scene at the end of 408 that I felt was missing something.
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 27
Kudos: 134





	Fear Is Not Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I loved the Wayhaught scene at the end of 408 and the reappearance of Nicole in her old PSD uniform, I couldn't get the thought out of my head of what that uniform would represent to Nicole. And that thought ended up in this little one shot. 
> 
> In my opinion, and that's all this is my opinion, the build up to that scene could have been the perfect opportunity to show some honest positive representation of mental health issues. Because I know a lot of us struggle with that. 
> 
> So please don't read this if you're triggered by descriptions of panic attacks.
> 
> Thanks as always to Dreamwalking78 for always supporting me despite my constant self-deprecation. And also thanks to Silver85 who pushed me to post this.

Nicole stared at it. Hands fidgeting with the blanket draped over the end of the bed where she sat. She assessed the danger, knowing full well it was a threat that only existed in the back of her own mind. But that didn’t make the fear any less real. It didn’t make the fear any...less. 

She had been doing better. After the Clantons had been taken care of and she’d finally been able to say yes to Waverly’s proposal. Her mind had calmed. Just enough for her to function day to day without constant worry. Not enough to rid herself of the night terrors, or the incessant panic when she woke up alone even though she could  _ hear  _ the shower running and her fiancée singing along to music. Her heart always beat a little quicker when she was on her own. She had been that way for so long, slowly losing hope that those she loved most would return. 

But that was over now. Waverly and Wynonna were here and they were  _ safe _ . At least as safe as they could be in Purgatory so she shouldn’t still feel this way. She was stronger than this. Only she wasn’t. Not anymore. Days and nights spent guarding the only place she had ever felt at home had worn her down to near on nothing. A shadow of her former self. And even then without light, without the glow Waverly brought to her soul, the shadow failed to exist. So she sat there. Knowing the Earp sisters were outside roasting marshmallows, fighting fear alone. Again. 

_ “It’s fucking clothing you useless fool.”  _ One voice inside her mind shouted. But all Nicole could see was the time before. When she was blissfully unaware of demons or a garden that existed only to take the one person she loved more than anything away and turn them to stone. Before she had insisted Wynonna save Waverly alone, because it  _ was  _ really always going to be her. Nicole left on the outside again, because she was useless. Her regular gun and her regular strength and her underwhelming understanding of the situation built by consistent insistence that she remained out of the loop. Even her found family didn’t believe her to be worth giving the knowledge of what was happening. 

Her knee was shaking, so violently that her own body jolted with it. So she hit it. Hard and fast until she was pretty sure it would bruise, but the damn thing didn’t cease. A physical reaction to the whirring in her brain that she was unable to stop. Her usual, albeit diminished, sense of control leaving her in the face of a trigger. So why was she sat staring at the uniform she wore when she first took post as an officer here in Purgatory? For Waverly. For a comment made in passing that stirred an idea. For her unwavering belief that the panic she knew she would suffer on dragging it out of the closet would be something she could overcome. Because she was better than this damn it. At least she thought she was. 

The sweat currently covering her palms and the palpitations within her heart would suggest different. The slight quiver of muscle below her left eye and the sound of her own pulse thick in her ears all signs that she was not okay. But Nicole would push through it. For Waverly. 

She stood. Hoping the shake to her leg wouldn’t make it too difficult to take the few steps to the closet door. Surprised when her own resolve emboldened with each stride. Her hand was steady as she reached forward to take hold of the beige khakis and remained so as she eased each leg into them. Her balance didn’t waiver. With the feel of the fabric against her skin she assured herself that she had suffered an overt overreaction to an unfounded trauma deep in her mind. She pulled her belt through the loops and breathed deep, ensuring her undershirt was tucked in, zipper still open. Waiting for the final piece of the puzzle. 

Nicole shrugged on the navy blue shirt and that’s when it all went wrong. The removal of the garment from the hangar left the full length mirror open to her gaze. She met the stare of her own reflection, a memory from long ago. Her fingertips grazed over the bronze metal name tag still adorning the left breast pocket, over the stitching of the PSD logo which was still pristine, showing the care she used to take. Her breathing stammered, the vibration through her chest shook her to the core as she stumbled backwards on legs that were suddenly shaking again. She closed her eyes in an attempt to fight off the black spots that were gathering at the edges of her vision but that made it worse. 

The walls of Waverly’s bedroom narrowed, so long a prison to her solitude, now a cage to her trauma. Her knees hit the edge of the bed and she tumbled, flailing arms failing to stop her falling to the floor, her back bouncing off the bottom of the mattress as she found herself sat on the fluffy rug. The memory reel playing through her head of time spent alone, of losing her own sense of self in an attempt to get Waverly and Wynonna home. Of promising the life of another in return for just that. Then happier times but still lost regardless. Of conversations about unicorns and a scarf tug on a couch that now sat downstairs. Back when she was her best self, strong and independent. Striding into Shorty’s with a pretend confidence shrouding the nerves of an introduction to the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. All too long ago but not long enough at the same time. Such was the magnitude in the shift of change since then. 

Nicole’s whole body was shuddering, disorientated and adrift in a restless sea of her own past. Mourning the loss of the person she was supposed to be. No longer a Sheriff protecting her people. No longer a source of strength for her family. No longer the person Waverly deserved, not even close. So close to nothing that she was even ashamed to admit that she spent several of those long eighteen months alone wondering whether there was any point in her own existence. The only thing keeping her going was the naïve hope that Waverly and Wynonna would find their way home...and Rachel. She gulped in a breath and it  _ hurt _ with the way her chest wouldn’t expand, constricted by the weight of her own guilt. 

When Nicole felt the tears start to sting down her cheeks she curled into her own knees, clutching onto her shins just for something real to hold onto while all notion of reality got swept away. She could just call for Waverly, who was able to help stop the onslaught of a panic attack just by being there but Nicole refused to interrupt Earp sister time when her fiancée was craving it. She also wouldn’t let herself put  _ that  _ pressure on her relationship. She knew she could rely on both Waverly and Wynonna, of course she could but there were certain burdens that were hers to bear alone. They had their own worries, they didn’t need hers too. She couldn’t offer much to the fight, at least she could pretend she was okay, that her resolve to support them both was still there. Even if it took everything she had most days. 

The creak of the stairs was an alarm in Nicole’s mind, Wynonna had no need to be coming up which meant it was Waverly and that her pretence of stability was about to crumble. The bedroom door opened as she had managed to pull herself half upright and the gasp and whispered “oh Nicole” meant it was much  _ much  _ too little too late. Her body froze, shoulders slumped meaning she could do nothing other than watch her tears fall to the carpet below her. Caught like a rabbit in the headlights of her own struggle. 

Then there was a strong hand on the small of her back, barely touching but there and grounding and everything she knew she needed but was too scared to ask for. Guiding her to perch on the bottom of the bed, Stetson right there next to her, the silence deafening. Her head was still downcast so when Waverly knelt in front of her she had no option but to meet her fiancée’s eyes with her own. Guilt welled up inside until Nicole was full of it, it seeped into the deepest darkest recesses of her being until it consumed her. Waverly cupped her cheek with a delicacy and softness Nicole didn’t think she deserved, brushing the tears away. 

“Hey baby. Can you talk to me?” Waverly had asked that question before, it was always ‘can’ never a demand, always Nicole’s choice and she had always chosen to change the subject. This time she just stayed quiet for a moment, convincing herself that Waverly needed to know how much she was struggling. 

“You mentioned the uniform. I wanted to wear it for you but so much has changed. This...it's not me anymore.” Nicole’s voice shook and she expected to see some form of disappointment in Waverly’s face, but the softness remained. “It scares me that you’ll realise I’m not the person you fell for anymore.” The truth hurt but she knew that if she didn’t speak it then, she never would and Waverly deserved honesty. 

“Baby. You’re so much more than a job title and a uniform. You always were.” Green eyes spoke their own truth and Nicole felt the tears fall again. 

“It’s not just the uniform Wave. I don’t feel like myself anymore. This…” Nicole pulled on the still open shirt hanging loose on her frame. “...is just a part of it. A reminder of a time where I thought I could protect you,  _ both _ of you. Not that I thought you ever needed it, but I felt like I could help and it gave me a purpose. I’ve got nothing to offer now.” Waverly shifted, pushing carefully on Nicole’s shoulders until she got the hint and moved backwards until she was sitting closer to the head of the bed. She then found herself being pulled gently into Waverly’s embrace, being held with such tenderness that she let go of it all and  _ cried _ . Sobs wracking her body, but Waverly just held her tighter. Allowing her safety in a moment so vulnerable. 

“I love you Nicole. You’ve shown me my own self worth time and time again. You championed me before you even really knew me. You’re my rock and even if you don’t feel it right now, you are so strong. You kept this place safe for us for a year and a half. You got Wynonna to me and it almost  _ killed  _ you.” Nicole felt Waverly’s lips leave a kiss against the crown of her head where it was cradled against the brunette’s chest. 

“I want to marry you more than anything because I love everything about who you are. Despite everything that Purgatory has thrown at you, when everything got crazy, you didn’t leave. And I was so scared you would.” Nicole looked up at her then and noticed Waverly’s own vulnerability in the way her brow furrowed and the tightening of the arm around her shoulders. “You were the only thing that kept me from losing myself completely in the garden. You know that right? That’s how Wynonna freed me from the grip it had on me. By showing me Bulshar’s shitty ring and telling me that it was time I lived for myself. That even though you hadn’t said yes to my proposal, she was sure you would. Without that, without the thought of you, I don’t know whether she would have been able to get me off of that throne.” Waverly swallowed and it was Nicole’s turn to wrap an arm around her waist, together in this bubble they were safe. They both knew that. 

“You save me even when you don’t know you’re saving me. And sure, I noticed you because of the uniform and the Stetson. But I fell in love with you because of everything else. All of the things that are so  _ inherently  _ part of you, you couldn't lose them if you tried. You hear me?” Nicole could do nothing but nod. Allowing herself to be comforted by Waverly’s words and the careful way she was being held. Waverly’s consistent touch reminded her that it was not a weakness to admit to struggling. In fact it was one of the bravest things she could do, acknowledge her own fragility. She’d known that before this. Trusted that Waverly wouldn’t think less of her for it, but it was such a scary notion, to open yourself up that way. Especially to someone you loved. 

“I’m scared I’ve lost part of me forever.” Nicole spoke at a whisper, needing to say the words but unwilling to actually give them much voice. 

“You’ve not lost any part of you Nicole. You’re still the person I fell in love with. More than, because we’ve grown together, even with all the shit that has been thrown at us. But I need you to promise that if you’re struggling like this with anything, you tell me, because I want to be your rock too. If I’ve learnt anything from being in a healthy relationship, it's that honest communication is a much more solid foundation than simply pretending everything is okay.” Nicole felt Waverly’s hand travel up her spine to the nape of her neck, twirling the ends of her hair and massaging the base of her scalp. Soothing in its simplicity. Almost as if the brunette was plucking the fearful thoughts from Nicole’s brain one by one. 

“I promise. And I’m sorry it took you literally catching me in the middle of a panic attack for me to open up. I’ll do better.” Nicole sat up straight then, her steady hands fastening the buttons of her shirt with a renewed purpose. She heard Waverly lightly chuckle before her fiancée’s hands covered her own, insisting she meet her gaze. 

“I don’t need you to do better. I just need you to talk to me. We’re in this together right?” There was a slight quirk to Waverly’s smile and Nicole could almost physically feel the tension slip away. 

“Always.” Because that was true and something that would never change. Nicole knew that without doubt as long as Waverly wanted her, she would be right by her side. 

“In that case  _ officer _ , I need to inform you that there is a rogue and unsupervised Wynonna loitering in our yard next to a bonfire that I’m pretty sure does not adhere to any form of safety standard.” The way Waverly raised her eyebrow made Nicole actually laugh, and god if that didn’t feel good. 

“That’s a serious accusation Ma’am, I need to insist you lead the way.” Nicole grinned and smoothed down the front of the now done up shirt and turned to walk towards the bedroom door. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Waverly’s voice made Nicole pause and turn on her heel. Her eyes widened as the brunette stepped forward and reached up to place the forgotten Stetson upon her head. Delicate hands grasped at her collar and she had just enough warning to use the tip of her index finger to push the brim of the Stetson up slightly before Waverly’s lips met her own. A tender kiss that ended with Nicole’s thumb brushing along Waverly’s bottom lip and the dip of her chin. She entwined Waverly’s fingers with her own and tugged gently, moving them out into the hallway, following her down the stairs. 

It wasn’t a magical fix. Nicole knew that. Solid was the understanding that past traumas would continue to haunt her. But taking that first step to open up to Waverly about just how much she was struggling, albeit a step that was forced upon her, had helped endlessly. Allowing someone else a glimpse of the deepest fears she was holding onto made them appear a whole lot less scary. And that was half the battle already fought and won. 

Because, although she needed reminding from time to time, she wasn’t on her own anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you as always for reading and please know. That if you are struggling with your own mental health, you are not alone. 
> 
> It's not easy to reach out and ask for help, but my DMs on twitter are open to you if you need to. 
> 
> Much love <3


End file.
